A Means to an End
by Casa Circe
Summary: He was fire and how she wanted to burn.
1. Chapter 1

A Means to an End

_Disclaimer: I don't own Escaflowne so just let me enjoy this crack!ship in peace._

_NOTE: I don't even know how this started but I just decided to ship older Merle and Dilandau in a very, ahem, mature way. I have a couple more chapters planned so this is not a one-shot. I started putting it down in words and it became long and started to have some sort of plot, so I decided to throw caution to the winds and just post my first smut fic. Having said that, please do not expect much quality from this first attempt and just enjoy the madness. Do not hesitate to share your feedback though. Also, happy birthday, Dilandau! (Though I doubt he'd be pleased about this.)_

A BRIEF NOTE ON THE SETUP: I won't go into great detail about the circumstances surrounding the events in the story but there are a few essential details I need to mention for the story to make sense so please bear with me. It's about four years after the war. Hitomi's back for good so she and Van are together in Fanelia. Van has also reconciled with Folken, who is alive and well. He and Princess Eries are married and living as political representatives in what used to be Zaibach territory. Dilandau has been successfully separated from Celena so he has his own body now, with memories intact but rage and bloodlust significantly diminished. He has adjusted to living again though it has been a difficult journey. Since his presence still makes many political leaders uneasy, Dilandau decides to stay with Folken and Eries for the time being. Merle is also their guest and that's where the story begins.

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Lately, her nights are so cold.

Merle realizes that this is part of growing up. After more reflection, she discovers and accepts that she sees Lord Van as a brother and nothing else. She is happy for him now that Hitomi has returned but she has been feeling a little out of place in Fanelia so she takes this trip. She accepts Lord Folken and Lady Eries' invitation to stay at their reasonably large estate in what is former Zaibach territory but is currently an area that the Allied countries have joint jurisdiction over. It is practically neutral ground, the perfect refuge. She feels welcome in their company and they allow her enough freedom to wander around on her own. They see and understand that she needs time to think and to figure things out on her own.

She has to clear her head. There are some new urges she is learning to cope with. She is lonely and she longs to be wanted by someone. Her own body constantly reminds her of this primal need. She is in heat so often these days and she spends her nights trying to imagine and achieve a passion that can consume her and leave her shaking with pleasure. But she is never satisfied so she tries not to dwell on her disappointment.

She has been staying at the estate for several days when another guest arrives, a face from the past. Dilandau Albatou. She remembers him well although it has been a long time since she last saw him and so much has already changed. He seems to recognize her too although she cannot be sure. When Folken presents them to each other, Dilandau simply nods in acknowledgment. Already that is more courtesy than she expects from him. It doesn't matter. The estate is reasonably large enough that their paths need not cross at all during their stay.

But a few nights later, she stumbles upon him training in the moonlight. He practices with a wooden sword, all that is allowed to him for now. His movements are graceful but lethal. He has not been in a fight for some time but his body remembers what to do. She watches him in fascination but she runs away before he notices her presence.

Alone in her room, she touches herself as she usually does, struggling to reach the heights of pleasure that she wants so desperately. But certain images flash through her mind in the midst of her ministrations: slender limbs moving in the moonlight, silver hair blowing in the wind, pale skin glistening with sweat, crimson eyes gleaming with concentration.

"Why am I thinking of him? Of all people, why him and why now? I must be more desperate than I thought."

But she cannot shun the images from her mind, no matter how hard she tries. Something in her keeps them there. And to her surprise, they … help.

She imagines all sorts of impossible things, his pale skin against hers, the touch of his strong hands around her, caressing her until she burns, his face close to hers, so close, his lips moving along her neck, nipping and licking and sucking, and.. oh..

These thoughts push her over the edge, much faster and with greater intensity than she has ever done before.

She didn't know an act could be simultaneously mortifying and satisfying.

She wants him. And she cannot fight it. So she blushes at this new revelation.

It is physical attraction, nothing else, she keeps telling herself, and even that is disturbing enough. But how can it be anything else? He is but a means to an end, nothing more.

She must not let it distract her during the day. She must not let HIM distract her. He must never suspect. No one can know of this.

She spends her nights watching him train before running back to her room and using the images of him, still so fresh in her memory, to bring her to completion. She moans and sighs and purrs with pleasure and it is only after her pulse steadies and her breath becomes normal again that she considers the complications of her desire. She still questions herself. How can she want him after all he has done?

What surprises her the most, in spite of everything, is how easy it is - to want him. While it is true that a lot of time has passed since the war ended bringing about a great many changes, and she concedes that he is one of the people who has changed the most, she cannot help but be wary. He is taller now and his shoulders have grown broader but he still maintained his lean, muscular figure. He has also calmed down now that the war was over and on the whole, he seems more balanced. There is an energy that radiates off of him most of the time though now it is no longer based on rage or destruction. But he is still fire. And how she wants to burn.

He is dangerous. This is dangerous. And it ought to end sooner rather than later. But she does not want it to end. Not yet. Not when it feels so good. She hates herself for it but she cannot, will not, let it go. Surely, this is temporary, a passing fancy. She will simply enjoy it while it lasts. He need never know she even thinks of him at all.


	2. Chapter 2

A Means to an End

_NOTE: Here's the next chapter. Not a lot of explicit stuff this time because it's early days. I have about three more chapters planned for this story which I hope to post soon. It's gotten a bit longer than I expected but I'm also enjoying the process because there's a bit more character development than I anticipated. But I hope it holds your interest. Enjoy._

_**My alternative, silly title for this story would be: "She wants the D(ilandau)". Anyway, carry on._

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She feels disloyal.

Which is strange since she isn't betraying anyone. No one is even aware of her new…interest. And she intends to keep it that way.

It's not as if she's changing sides. There aren't even any sides to speak of. The war is over. It's been over for years.

True, he had been an enemy. But that no longer seems to be the case. At the very least, he has not shown any hostility towards Van or any other allies. His experience seems to have sapped him of his cruelty and though he sometimes seemed angry and bitter, which is only natural, he no longer scares her like he used to during the war. These days he has a very different effect on her.

But she isn't even going to act on this. She isn't betraying anyone.

And yet, despite all her arguments and rationalizations, this unexpected attraction continues to plague her.

At first Merle chalks it up to not having been exposed to appealing male figures during her nights of torment. After all, she had stumbled upon him by accident. It could have been anyone.

So she tries to replace him with others, first with familiar faces (but not too familiar so that it would be even more awkward), and when this proves ineffective, she tries to imagine good looking strangers, but all to no avail. In her dismay, she always ends up remembering him again just so she can be sated. She feels guilty afterwards, but as time passes, it nags at her less and less.

It doesn't help that he makes such a striking silhouette in the moonlight when he trains alone, an image that never ceases to fascinate her.

It doesn't help that on some warm nights, he decides to take off his shirt for the duration of his exercises.

It also doesn't help that he always wears tight leather pants. Extremely tight leather pants.

"I'm not that weak," she tells herself. She doesn't usually swoon over impressive specimens of the male figure and she knows she has seen her fair share. His is neither the first nor the finest specimen she has ever seen.

So there must be something else about him that made her nights so much more satisfying. But she refuses to dwell on it. It's risky enough as it is.

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"Don't you have anything better to do?"

Merle is taken aback by the question and at first wonders if he is addressing her since he does not turn to face her. But no one else is in the courtyard. She says nothing, foolishly hoping he won't pursue the conversation.

Dilandau sighs with exasperation and turns to her, his crimson eyes directed at her face. There is no doubt about it now. She meets his gaze nervously.

"I hope you didn't think I'd be stupid enough not to notice you were there," he says coldly.

They have never spoken before and she never expected him to be the one to initiate any communication. She is at a loss for words even if she knows she should have prepared an excuse ages ago. She wasn't exactly discreet in her nocturnal observations of him and he was bound to notice sooner than later. But she always thought he would not bother to ask her about it since he had not said anything the first time.

"Well?" he asks impatiently, taking a few steps towards her. She stiffens and tries to look as nonchalant as she can.

"Why do you care?" she retorts, struggling to maintain her composure.

He raises an eyebrow. "Well, if you're spying on me, you're not doing a good job of it."

"I'm not spying on you."

"So answer my first question then."

"There isn't much to do around here," she says, hoping she sounds unimpressed enough. She curses herself for not being prepared for this and for not coming up with a better response. But she is having trouble thinking straight and she wonders how she can even form a sentence when he is looking at her so intently.

He shrugs in agreement and she feels relieved. If he believes that she is just as bored as he is, there should be no problem.

"And I'm just making sure you aren't up to anything suspicious," she blurts out for some reason and she regrets it as soon as the words leave her mouth. But it's too late.

He walks up to her and being so close to him throws her off balance. His expression is more of amusement than malice though she cannot be sure.

"And if I was," he whispers, "are you going to be the one to stop me?"

She shudders. She can feel the heat radiating off his skin. She can smell sweat mixed with his own scent. His gaze pierces hers so she looks away and she cannot help but stare at his lips as he speaks. This is too much.

"There isn't really much to do around here," she repeats weakly, unable to say anything else but needing to break that silence.

Her face turns red with embarrassment. Dilandau sees how intimidated she is of him and he smirks with satisfaction. He's glad he still has that effect on people. He backs away and gives her one last condescending glance.

"Do whatever you want," he says casually, "just don't get in my way."

And just like that, he resumes his exercises, like she isn't even there. She is too flustered by the whole encounter so she makes a show of storming off.

Part of her is afraid he will chase after her. Another part wants him to.

She hates feeling so torn. Surely she must be going mad. But she makes it back to her room in one piece, though still shaken by the whole thing.

That was the first time they had spoken to each other, the first time he acknowledged her presence. It lasted only a few minutes but she feels a slight shift in the balance. She hopes that nothing will change.

But already that night, she comes harder and faster than she has ever done and she has to put a hand to her mouth to muffle her cries.


	3. Chapter 3

A Means to an End

_NOTE: I wanted to post this sooner but this proved really tricky to write and turned out longer than I expected. Anyway, I'm leading up to something here so nothing very explicit. I didn't expect to have so many emotions involved but it was interesting to explore the characters in depth. It gets a bit angst-y too but I hope that doesn't seem strange or awkward. I know I promised smut but I don't want it to be totally random or crazy. There has to be some kind of basis to it and hence this story became more than a one-shot._

_While this is still mostly from Merle's POV, some of Dilandau slipped into the chapter without my planning it and I think it helps the story's progression. Only a few chapters left so please bear with me and I hope you like this one._

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That first conversation made an impact on both of them but they are both determined to act like nothing has changed. For the most part, they put up convincing fronts. To Merle's relief, Dilandau ignores her as he trains so she is able to watch him without any fear of confrontation. He is aware of her presence, however, and steals glances at her whenever she isn't looking. His eyes linger on her more and more though he is not conscious of it.

Merle discovers that even when she does not have any particular needs, she enjoys watching him, if only out of curiosity. Since she does not sense any hostility from his side, the evenings pass almost amicably. The whole thing becomes a nightly habit for both and though neither would ever admit it, this strange routine brings them some degree of comfort in their solitude.

But after a few weeks, Merle notices a change in him. He looks tired and on some nights his movements are sluggish. When they manage to see each other during the day, she sees how haggard he looks, his skin paler than ever and his eyes sunken. He has clearly been losing sleep.

She finds that she feels some concern about his health but she dares not say anything. Despite his tolerance of her during his training sessions, she doubts he will welcome any interference. But she still cannot help but notice the change in his features and she hopes that he will soon recover from whatever ails him.

At first she considers asking either Lady Eries or Lord Folken about this but she decides against it. She does not want to betray any particular interest in Dilandau even though she knows her hosts would not judge her. She does not even know why she is beginning to be concerned for him at all.

Since she cannot approach him directly, Merle tries to find out more about his condition by casually listening to some of his conversations with Lord Folken. Her hearing is keener than most people so even whispers do not escape her when she is within a certain distance.

"Are the nightmares getting worse?" Folken asks one day.

"They never really stop," Dilandau replies with a tired shrug, "But when I'm lucky, I can forget them. I haven't been lucky in a while."

They move away and she cannot hear the rest of the conversation. And she does not want to be caught eavesdropping. But she understands a little bit better now.

He is suffering. The war has taken its toll on him, as it has on so many others. She recognizes the effects on those who have been in the battlefield. She has seen them often enough in the people closest to her. It makes sense that he was not unscathed by everything, though she did not know the particulars.

It's still a bit jarring for her to see him in such low spirits when he always seemed so confident and alive. But she has seen some of his bruises and scars on the nights when he removed his shirt. These never bothered her too much because they did not lessen his appeal. But thinking of these bodily blemishes reminds her that he is not invincible.

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Unable to sleep one night, Merle decides to take a late night stroll towards the courtyard which always looked lovely under the light of the two moons. To her surprise, she finds him there too, pacing across the courtyard restlessly.

He is muttering to himself repeatedly while covering his ears every now and then, as if trying to banish loud noises. He shakes his head frantically as he paces and there is a desperation in his voice. Merle is not far away so she is able to catch his words.

"Alone, alone again, always alone," he mutters over and over, "enough, enough, enough, leave me, please, enough. Alone, alone…"

The words are the same but the rhythm and volume changes inconsistently. Merle hears so much pain in his voice that she cannot help but approach him cautiously.

Suddenly, he falls to his knees and he holds the sides of his head with both hands, trying to steady himself as he begins shaking.

"No…" the word is almost a cry for help.

That is more than enough for Merle. She rushes to his side and instinctively puts a hand on his shoulder. He recoils immediately, pulling away and staring at her in shock.

"What are you doing here?" he asks angrily.

There is such an expression of pain in his face, one she had never expected to see from him, that she does not know what to say. She merely looks at him sympathetically, only making him turn away in disgust.

He does not want anyone to see him this way. He does not want _her_ to see him this way.

But it is too late for that and he cannot bear the look she is giving him.

"I don't need your pity," he says coldly, standing up straight and trying to look as imposing as he can. She looks slightly hurt at this but she says nothing.

"Let me help you," she wants to tell him but refrains from doing so. What could she do for him, after all? She has no words of comfort to offer, at least none that he cared to hear. And she did not dare try touching him again, so repulsed had he seemed when she had tried to lay a hand on his shoulder.

He does not want her here. And yet, she cannot find it in herself to leave him. Not like this.

So she stays, awkward and stubborn and still unsure of why she is there in the first place. He glares at her but she stands her ground. Somehow her presence momentarily distracts him from his demons.

He sighs with exasperation. "Are you sure you're not spying on me?"

She almost smiles with relief. His mood has improved significantly and she wants to think she has had some hand in it. She only hopes it can be sustained.

"I couldn't sleep," she replies truthfully.

"Neither could I," he says in a more serious tone. He puts a hand to his head and frowns. Whatever had been tormenting him when she arrived seemed to have returned. Merle notices the change in his demeanor and again approaches him cautiously.

He managed to maintain a straight posture for her benefit but his knees are shaking slightly and he seems on the verge of falling again. Though she anticipates his refusal, Merle reaches out both hands to try and support him. To her surprise, he grabs her by the shoulders and manages to steady himself. She is startled by the sudden contact and her hands rest on his chest. At first, his hands are cold against her skin. His grip is firm but not painful. She is closer to him than she has ever been.

Nervously, she raises her head to look at him. His expression is not of anger but more of confusion and surprise.

"You're always there, watching," he says softly, "why?"

He lowers his head slightly to get a better look at her. She cannot help but stare at his lips as he asks:

"What is it that you want from me?"

She does not know what to say. How could she tell him the truth? And what lie could she offer to convince him? And with him holding her like that, his face inches from hers, she cannot trust herself.

"I…" she stammers.

Hesitantly, she meets his gaze and in that moment, desire flashes in their eyes. They both recognize it in themselves but not in the other. Overwhelmed by this and afraid to show him how she feels, Merle looks away sharply and so misses the same longing reflected in her companion's eyes.

Dilandau doesn't know how to deal with what he believes is a moment of madness. And something about her reaction wounds him. She had averted her eyes from him and he takes this for fear and repulsion. He is all too familiar with such a response. A shadow falls across his face as his demons reclaim him.

"I see," he mutters bitterly, "you think I'm a monster."

"What?" she replies, shocked out of her nervousness. Despite his harsh tone, she can see an expression of hurt in his eyes.

"And you wouldn't be wrong," he continues, his hands sliding from her shoulders. He steps back and turns away from her coldly.

"No," she protests, "wait…"

"Enough!" he shouts, "Just leave me alone!"

He storms off, muttering as he disappears into the shadows, "Alone…alone again…always alone…"

She watches him go in confusion and regret. She wants to chase after him but she feels rooted to the ground. Shivering, she rubs her shoulders, missing the warmth of his touch.

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Once back in her room she reflects on what just happened. She had never seen him in such a state before and she thought that an encounter as unsettling as that would put her off him for good. But instead, she feels like she is seeing him, _really_ seeing him for the first time. And she cannot stop thinking of him.

"You think I'm a monster." His words echo in her mind and she wishes she could have shown him how wrong he was.

A monster? Far from it. But how could he know? How could he possibly know what she really thinks of him? How could he know of the purpose he has fulfilled on her restless nights?

She imagines him even more vividly now that she has been close to him and she has felt his touch, even just for a moment. It is easier to imagine him holding her in his arms, pressing his lips to hers before trailing down her neck, her hands tracing the scars on his back before she pulls him closer to her, their whole bodies intertwined as they find their rhythm and move together, faster and harder until they can drown out all the pain and loneliness.

And as she finds her release that night, she cries out his name for the very first time.


	4. Chapter 4

A Means to an End

_NOTE: Sorry for the delay. I know it's been a while but I've been very busy and distracted. But I pushed myself to update by giving myself a deadline (10-10) which is always very effective. But the story's moving along and the end is in sight. So I thank you for your patience and please bear with me._

_This chapter covers some aspects of the story I didn't initially plan. But I decided to include this anyway, as a transition to the next event. I wanted there to be a little break between last chapter's conversation to them reaching some sort of understanding. And in the process, I somehow came up with a little flashback as well as some development of Folken and Eries' relationship because I couldn't resist and I didn't want them just to be background props. The focus isn't on them, of course, but I thought I'd mention them a little more before we focus back on Merle and Dilandau. While this is still mostly Merle's POV, we get glimpses of the others' thoughts as well. And sorry if it seems that Merle's confusion is repetitive but that's deliberate. She's really conflicted about the whole situation and she is struggling to make sense out of it all so she goes through the same train of thought over and over. Hope it isn't boring for you._

_I don't know how this story ended up being more serious than the way it started out in my head but the longer I think about the story, more of these little moments and nuances pop up. Don't worry though, it's not going to get too serious and there will be some *fun* times at the end._

_Hope you enjoy the chapter and please do share your thoughts about the story with me!_

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Dilandau's dark mood passes, much to everyone's relief. He is in significantly better spirits and resumes his nightly training sessions. But no one watches him anymore and the cat-girl's absence is noted.

Still rattled by their last encounter, Merle cannot bring herself to face him. She knows she ought to somehow clear up the misunderstanding they ended with but she does not know how. So she avoids him and resolves to do so until she figures out what to do next.

This proves more difficult than anticipated. While he does not consciously seek her out, Dilandau bumps into her in the hallways more often than before. Merle always manages to escape before any conversation can be initiated and though he never says a word to stop her, she can always feel his eyes follow her as she leaves. The situation is growing more awkward but neither of them ventures to solve it.

And then, an unexpected development occurs that requires Dilandau and Folken to go on a short trip. Preparations are made quickly and soon, Eries and Merle are there to see them off.

"Be careful," Eries tells her husband, laying a hand on his shoulder gently before turning to his companion, "both of you."

Dilandau nods in polite acknowledgment.

As the couple says their farewell's, the young man turns his gaze to the cat-girl. She meets his eyes nervously but is determined not to avert them this time, a task which proves exceedingly difficult since he stares at her so intently. There is something in the look he gives her that she cannot read (and perhaps refuses to recognize). Although there is none of his usual rage, his gaze still burns.

So she is relieved when he finally turns away and leaves but she cannot forget that look. She does not know what to make of it.

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Eries and Merle share each other's company as they wait for the two men to return. Merle has grown fond of the Asturian princess and enjoys spending time with her and the feeling is mutual. They have much to talk about and Eries can always be relied on for guidance on any matter. Merle knows that her friend is one of the few people she can really trust but she still does not dare discuss her predicament with Eries. Not until she has a better understanding of herself and her wishes.

The days pass pleasantly enough for the two women. Eries even comments that it is refreshing to have the place to themselves for a change, but Merle knows she misses her husband though she does not show it.

Ever since arriving at the estate, Merle has always been amazed by the relationship between Folken and Eries. She had not been very well acquainted with either of them though she had some vague memories of growing up with Folken and some memories of Eries' hospitality during the war. Their marriage had been a surprise to most of the people close to them and she had been curious about them for a long time. Part of the reason she accepted their invitation was to satisfy that curiosity.

To her delight, her stay with them provided ample opportunities to observe them together. She had never seen two people so well suited to each other. She had an idea of their cold and formal dispositions but she sees now that they have both softened while still maintaining a very distinct and dignified manner. Whether this change was brought about by the end of the war or by their marriage or both, Merle is not sure but she is glad for it. Between them is a genuine affection and deep respect. And though they are not overly expressive, they often exhibit subtle signs of passion that could easily be the subject of songs and poetry. Merle admires them both and is even a bit envious of such a relationship.

She notices how concerned Eries is about Folken and how the former is anxious for his return. While Merle does not know the details of the errand, she suspects there is an element of danger about it and she cannot help but worry about the safety of the two men as well. As is her nature, the cat-girl is as supportive as she can be to Eries and the latter is grateful for it.

And Merle remembers the last time they had to endure such an anxious wait. Folken had not returned at the appointed time and every hour of delay caused his wife greater misery even though she remained more calm and collected than was expected. But he returned at last and Merle was relieved for the princess. The younger woman did not want to see her friend suffer any more distress.

Still fascinated by the relationship between her hosts, Merle had watched in awe as the reunited spouses held each other in a tight embrace, Folken apologizing for having caused his wife to worry. And when they kissed, Merle had been so distracted by the rare sight that she did not notice that Folken had not returned alone.

A gaunt figure had emerged from the shadows and Merle had found herself staring into a face from the past. Despite the obvious fatigue in his features, Dilandau Albatou had still made a striking figure. The familiar red eyes had startled her and sent something like a jolt of electricity through her. Neither had spoken a word to the other but there had been a sense of mutual acknowledgment.

As she recalls that moment, Merle understands why there was something so striking about the way he had looked at her before leaving. He had made an impression on her from the moment he had arrived, although at the time she had attributed her reaction to fear and recognition. But now she thinks there might have been something else there and she needs to figure out what it means.

She doubts that seeing her had a similar impact on him that time but something about that final glance makes her think that he at least remembers that first moment. She resolves to speak to him when he returns so that they can reach some sort of understanding, the details of which she still is not clear on.

Merle waits with Eries patiently and cannot deny to herself that she is concerned about Dilandau's fate, even just in a general way. If Eries notices any sign of partiality for Dilandau, she says nothing of it. She has her suspicions but it is not her affair and if Merle chooses not to confide in her about it, she will not pry. When the girl is ready to share, Eries will be there to listen.

A few days later, Folken and Dilandau return from their mission unscathed. Once again, Eries welcomes her husband with a warm embrace which he returns eagerly.

Merle approaches Dilandau hesitantly and he raises an eyebrow when he sees her awkwardly standing in front of him.

"Welcome back," she mutters softly, looking at him just long enough to catch his nod of acknowledgment before she looks away. He is amused by this but before he can say anything, they are both distracted by Eries pulling Folken into a kiss. This rare display of affection from two normally reserved individuals causes Merle to blush and Dilandau to smirk. He glances mischievously at the flustered cat-girl and is tempted to say, "Don't I get a kiss too?" if only to see her reaction.

But he decides against this instantly. He is surprised that such a thought even occurred to him and it bothers him that some secret part of him even wanted it to happen. He doesn't know that there was a good chance that Merle would have taken him seriously.


	5. Chapter 5

A Means to an End

_NOTE: This is the penultimate chapter. I really like that word and I make the most of every opportunity to use it. I'm a huge dork, if you haven't noticed that by now.  
_

_Now the fun begins (or at least I hope it's fun for you to read). This is not yet the most explicit chapter but it is already more explicit than anything I've ever written so far so please forgive any clumsy or awkward writing. I tried my best to avoid most of the cliches and to not be too cheesy._

_And I found an awesome picture on DeviantArt that almost perfectly captures the setup I describe here. I had already planned the scene in my head but when I saw the picture, it became even clearer to me. And it really helps that the characters kind of resemble Merle and Dilandau. I can't link it here but it is a lovely piece of work so I suggest you check out "the Almost Kiss" by aiyaitsai.  
_

_I know it's been a while since my last update and I'm very sorry for the delay. I've been distracted with other things. But since there is only one chapter left, I will work on it right away (though it will be the toughest for me to write). And I am determined to post the conclusion to this little story by next week. So at least there will not be much of a wait for that. But thank you so much for your patience.  
_

_Please do let me know what you think of my attempt at this._

_Enjoy!_

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Chapter 5

Merle had always assumed that her inexplicable desires would remain forever one-sided. But after those intense glances when he returned from his short errand, she begins to suspect differently. Being more on her guard she even catches him looking in at her intently when he thinks she doesn't notice.

She is intrigued and observes him even more carefully to make sure this isn't just her imagination. But though he has not yet initiated any kind of conversation with her, he certainly looks at her more often. This certainty emboldens her.

She had never considered ever revealing her desires before but now that there is a chance that they may even be reciprocated, she is willing to try. He has undoubtedly shown interest in her and she is eager to know how far he is willing to go to act on that interest.

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"I don't think you're a monster," she tells him one night, resuming a conversation they had had a long time ago and in very different circumstances.

He pauses in his training and stares at her in surprise, raising an eyebrow curiously. They are alone in the courtyard where he is doing his habitual exercises. This is the most convenient opportunity for either of them to have any kind of conversation and considering how many times she had watched him during his solitary sessions, Merle considers the setting strangely appropriate for this confrontation.

"I…I just thought I should clear that up," she stammers, blushing slightly under his intense gaze. To her relief, his expression is more amusement than anger. He shrugs lightly and she is glad that he is taking this so well.

"Noted," he replies curtly and for a few moments they just stand there in awkward silence.

Despite rehearsing how this would go in her head, Merle cannot find the nerve to continue her plan. He can be so intimidating. It doesn't help that this is one of those nights he trained shirtless.

"Well?" he asks, trying to sound impatient though it comes out more as expectant, "was there anything else?"

Merle still struggles to find the right words but she settles for returning his gaze resolutely. She has his full attention now. There is a surge of almost palpable energy between them.

Seeing that the cat-girl will not speak, Dilandau decides to sustain the conversation, "You never answered my question before."

He walks towards her. His manner is deliberate but not threatening. Merle grows excited.

"What question is that?" she asks, feigning forgetfulness. Of course, she remembers every word ever exchanged between them. But she needs to draw him in.

She still wants to see the extent of his interest. She takes a few steps backward, not in fear, but to see if he will continue approaching her. She is not disappointed.

She stops as she reaches one of the stone pillars in the courtyard. She leans against it, still facing Dilandau. She keeps her arms at her sides and rests her hands flat on the stone behind her.

She has deliberately chosen to wear a short, tight dress that ends high above her knees and hugs her figure more than suggestively. At first she had been hesitant about such a daring choice. But since it is making the desired effect on her target, she is glad she that she took the risk.

Though Dilandau's expression remains cautious, there is a subtle spark in his eyes that betrays his attraction. Merle does not miss this and waits eagerly for what he does next. It is clear that he knows what game she is playing and he is keenly participating.

He stops in front of her but narrows the distance by placing his hands on the pillar on either side of her. Her breath hitches as he leans forward and his cheek brushes hers lightly so that he can whisper in her ear.

"What is it that you want from me?"

The same words as before but in vastly different circumstances. No longer said in the loud, frantic, and desperate tone. This time they are whispered languorously in an alluring tone that leaves no doubt as to his intentions. He adjusts his position so that he is face to face with her, barely any distance between them. She can feel his warm breath on her lips as he waits for an answer.

Merle's pulse races and she struggles to keep as still as he is. She had oftener imagined a similar moment but she had never expected it to be this intense.

"Don't you already know?" she replies breathlessly.

He gives her a teasing grin. "But I need you to tell me," he says as he leans even closer, "Merle."

Hearing her name from his lips as his mouth hovers maddeningly over hers is too much. She has had enough of words.

With both hands, she seizes his smug face and brings his mouth to hers. She is more daring than he expected and at first, he is too stunned to resist her ferocity. Instead, he simply gives in as her lips capture his eagerly.

But after a few moments, he takes her face in his hands and pulls away to look at her properly. She make a soft sound of protest before focusing her eyes on him. There is a variety of emotions in his gaze including incredulity and amusement. But the only thing that matters to Merle is that she finally sees her hunger reflected in those red eyes.

It is only a moment for him to get his bearings but he resumes their activity with fervor. His responsiveness is beyond Merle's expectations and she revels in it. His lips are warm and soft and they move against hers fiercely. He clearly knows what he is doing and she wonders if he has been secretly practicing this somewhere. But she no longer cares.

Merle throws her arms around him and pulls him towards her, enjoying the feel of his bare skin in her hands. Returning the gesture, he puts his arms tightly around her waist. She moans as his lips move down to her neck and he begins to suck on it gently.

She rubs against him eagerly and hooks a leg around his waist to pull him even closer. He moves his hand to the back of the knee that is pressing him to her and slides it across her thigh until it is under her dress. He tugs playfully at her tail, eliciting something between a whimper and meow from her. Amused at the sound, he grins into her neck as he continues his attentions there.

His hand moves to her rear and he begins to massage it gently, causing her to purr and moan contentedly. She then takes his face in her hands and brings his mouth back to hers forcefully as her fingers thread through his hair. He returns the kiss passionately before moving back to her neck. He slides his hand back behind her knee and raises her thigh to an angle that brings them even closer together. She bucks against him eagerly.

"Dilandau," she moans softly.

He pauses as he hears his name on her lips. For as much as it stirs an urgent desire, it also sows a tiny seed of doubt in his mind. After all, he had never expected her, of all people, to ever utter his name in such a way.

He hesitates and then with a sigh, gently pulls her leg and arms off of him. He takes a few steps back. She stares at him in puzzlement but with a final glance he turns and begins to walk away. Even some part of him can't believe he is foregoing such pleasure for a nagging doubt but he feels he needs to hold back while he still can.

"What's wrong?" she calls after him, grabbing his arm and making him face her.

He shakes his head. "You do remember who I am, don't you?"

"Of course," she replies, almost harshly, "How could I forget?"

"Then, why?" he asks gravely.

Merle stares at him in surprise, her frustrated desires forgotten for a moment. She sees real doubt there and maybe even concern. This surprises her more than anything and makes her even more determined not to waste this opportunity to move past their history.

"I don't know," she answers honestly, "I can't explain it and believe me, I've tried so many times to figure it out. But I can't. All I know is that THIS is real. And I know you felt it too."

She dares him to deny it because she knows he can't. But he still looks uncertain.

"I know it seems strange," she says, approaching him cautiously, "but I know who you are. I am doing this with my eyes wide open."

She looks at him with complete determination and he knows she is not lying. But he makes one more attempt to be certain. "Are you sure you're not going crazy?"

"I'm sure," she replies, smiling warmly, "I'm not crazy or sick or confused. In fact, I feel like this is the first time in months that I can see clearly."

Before Dilandau can say a word, Merle covers his mouth with hers. He kisses her back, this time with more conviction.

Having crossed the final threshold, they decide that they will be needing some privacy. The moonlit courtyard is not an ideal venue, at least not for tonight. And both their bedrooms seem too inconveniently far for their purposes.

"Come on," Merle declares, grabbing Dilandau's hand eagerly, "I know a clean, spare room in the next hall where we won't be disturbed."

He raises an eyebrow at her as he lets her drag him away. "You've given this a lot of thought."

"You have no idea."


	6. Chapter 6

A Means to an End

_NOTE: Welcome to the final chapter! Hopefully, this brings this crazy story to a satisfying conclusion. Also posting this exactly three months after I posted the first chapter. Just to keep it neat and tidy.  
_

_In the old days, this would have been called a lemon but apparently we're not calling it that anymore. Anyway, here there be smut._

_Again, I tried my best to avoid cliches (and puns, so many puns) but it is still my first attempt at writing something like this so please calibrate your expectations. If you find that it is not the worst smut you have ever read, I shall be very glad._

_Almost no dialogue because everything I came up seemed either cliche, cheesy or just really, really bad. I didn't want to risk making this any worse than it already is or ruin what could be something remotely readable._

_This is not a romance, far, far from it. It's not completely pointless/plotless smut though. I'd almost say this is a friends with benefits situation but they aren't exactly friends. (Ex-enemies-with-benefits? Is that a thing?) Anyway, I hope the context of the story at least made them seem plausible together. Does anything else develop from this? Who knows?_

_Thank you so much for reading and reviewing, Chocolate-Covered-Coffee-Beans and konstantya. And thanks for your interest and support, Radical-Rad1986. I knew there wouldn't be much of an audience for this thing considering how few we are left in the active fandom so having people support and give me feedback was lovely. Thank you so much for putting up with this little experiment of mine (both in shipping and writing). It's been an interesting experience._

_No plans for a sequel for now. I have a few vague ideas of short chapters on what happens to them some time after this but not planning to write those anytime soon. I've gotten most of this crack ship out of my system but there are still a few things I could do with them (non-smutty ones, thank goodness) so that's still an option. But for now, this is my crazy contribution to the scarcity of Merlandau fics around. After all, it already evolved from a one-shot to this long-ish, multi-chapter thing.  
_

_I also made a fun little fanmix for this story on 8tracks. I can't post the link here but if you're interested, send me a message and I can send you the link._

_Now, I have to go and wash my brain out with soap._

_Enjoy?_

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Chapter 6

There stare at each other for a few moments once the rest of their clothes are discarded, silently drinking in every detail.

Suddenly, Merle feels self-conscious under her companion's intense gaze. She cannot read his expression whereas hers is clearly expressing her satisfaction at finally seeing what she had been imagining for many nights. She knows she is attractive and yet this tense pause makes her doubt herself.

Fortunately, the moment passes and they are both on the bed, Merle on her back with Dilandau leaning over her, his lips claiming hers once more. She wraps her arms around him eagerly, trying to bring their bodies even closer. Leaving her mouth, he travels to her neck and begins to suck gently, and she lets out a soft, low moan.

He smirks into her skin as his mouth moves lower. He realizes that she responds better to licking than kissing. Of course, she does. And it's convenient that he prefers it as well. He also enjoys the unique noises she makes as his tongue explores her. Moans interspersed with meows and purrs and other not quite human sounds that make this whole experience even more exciting.

He takes one breast into his mouth and she gasps, arching her back into his wet mouth. He caresses the other breast with one hand while he slides the other to the warmth between her legs. She cries out as he starts to stroke her, first slowly, and then with growing speed and force.

He switches his mouth's attentions to the other breast while continuing his finger's movements between her legs. She groans and pants in response, her hips bucking into his hand eagerly.

Merle senses that she is reaching the edge. But as she accelerates her movements, he suddenly ceases his. She almost growls in frustration but then, through the haze of her vision, she notices that he is holding her thighs in his hands and his head is positioned between her legs. Her eyes widen and she holds her breath in anticipation.

He throws her a mischievous glance before moving his tongue slowly and maddeningly across her wet flesh. She gasps before making an almost pleading whine for him to continue. He obliges, leaving no inch of her untouched. He finds the swollen nub of flesh and flicks his tongue over it, causing her to moan even louder. He takes it between his lips and sucks and he needs to hold her in place as she twists and writhes beneath him. Desperate for something to hold onto, she extends her claws and grabs the sheets behind her. She rips part of them to shreds but she does not even care as her claws dig deeper into the mattress.

Dilandau enjoys making her squirm with the simple flick of his tongue and he maintains his attentions, curious to hear what other noises she was capable of making in the throes of passion. Her fascinating variations of meows, purrs, and growls fill the room. He also hears his name cried out and repeated in ways he would never have thought possible.

Merle can feel her muscles beginning to convulse and her hips buck into his mouth uncontrollably. She comes and her entire body is shaking. Dilandau listens with fascination and growing desire as the cat-girl's cries of completion fill the room.

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Neither of them are strangers to this. Though limited and nothing compared to what they are currently engaged in, they have experience.

Growing up in the Zaibach military, Dilandau's exposure to society was limited but adequate. There were female soldiers in the army so everyone always found ways to diffuse any internal tension. They learned to satisfy their urges as practically as possible so as to keep themselves from being distracted. He had never grown attached to any of his partners nor they to him. For them, this had simply been another exercise to keep themselves healthy, functional, and focused on their missions without the inconvenience of emotional baggage. Naturally, he had not been with anyone since the war and had not really felt plagued by such desires until recently.

When Merle first started experiencing these intense urges, she had quickly adapted to the change and had been very open-minded. In an ever evolving society, she had never wanted for willing partners since she had grown to be very pretty. And her kind always had a feral attraction to others that she took full advantage of. Though she would have preferred some emotional connection along with intimacy, she had been determined not to be repressed. But it had also been some time since she had last been with anyone and certainly not someone with whom she had a complicated history.

But fate moves in mysterious ways. Though they had never expected to have such an effect on each other, they are both enjoying the novelty, amongst other things. Any remaining hints of regret or resistance are quickly giving way to stronger and more pleasing sensations.

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Dilandau adjusts his position until he is leaning over her again, a hungry look in his red eyes. Merle grins at him and quickly pulls his face towards hers. She can taste herself on his lips and tongue. A strange taste but not unpleasant, especially since it gives her more excuse to explore his mouth. Her scent is mixed with his now and they both find this intoxicating.

He reciprocates her eagerness and brings his body even closer to hers. She had retracted her claws by now and her hands roam his back and shoulders. His pale skin is warm in her hands. Her fingers trace the scars she had seen so often while watching him train that she had memorized their positions. She had longed to touch him for so long that she is taking full advantage of the opportunity.

They release each other for a breathless moment. He holds her face in his hands and stares at her with those intense, red eyes of his, asking her silently. She stares back with desire and nods. And in case her response is not clear enough, she spreads her legs a bit more.

He gives her a quick kiss before positioning himself properly between her legs and then slowly, carefully entering her. She gasps as feels him inside her and he does not move, though he is desperate to do so. He wants to give her enough time to adjust. Fortunately, after a few moments, Merle gives him another nod and he begins to move. Merle moans as he thrusts faster and harder into her. He hits a spot deep within her and she cries out, her nails digging into his back. It does not take long for them to find a good rhythm. She moves her hips in time with his thrusts and she hitches her legs up higher on either side of him, driving him even deeper within her.

He leans and mumbles something to her but she cannot register the words at first because she is too distracted by the feel of his breath on her ear. Soon she recognizes her name being said over and over again. She holds him even tighter and can only moan his name in reply.

Soon, the ache builds in the pit of her stomach and the heat rises until she begins to contract around him. With one final thrust, he sends her over the edge and she throws her head back and all but screams his name, her hands still clutching at his shoulders. A few moments later, he follows her, burying his face in her neck. They lie on the bed with chests heaving, arms and legs still entangled.

Recovering slightly, Dilandau rolls off of her to his side of the bed then turns to see her reaction, not without some apprehension. Though Merle is still somewhat breathless, she turns to him with a grin. He smirks back and tries to hide his relief.

Merle sighs and to Dilandau's surprise, snuggles up against him, the top of her head under his chin. It feels completely natural for her to do this but she worries for a moment that he will object. But then she feels him relax and ever so lightly lean his head on hers, and she purrs contentedly.

For the first time in months, they both fall into a deep, undisturbed sleep. There are no nightmares tonight.

-FIN-


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